


Tangled in knots

by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren)



Series: FullmoonFiclet Entries [92]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: FBI Intern Stiles Stilinski, Full Shift Werewolves, Knitting, M/M, Post s6A, References to Knotting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-02-01 21:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12713517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/pseuds/triggeringthehealing
Summary: He's right under the nose of the FBI, even though he knows he's on their target list. But it's not the first time he hid right under the law enforcement's noses. Last time, it was Stiles who harboured Derek's fugitive ass. He's really not expecting it to be the case here, no matter how close to Quantico he is. He also has other issues to worry about, and that's when he spots a flyer that promises information on the problem he's had ever since the time he saved his own life by shifting into a wolf.Derek really should rethink his position on coincidences.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Full Moon Ficlet](https://fullmoon-ficlet.livejournal.com/526133.html) challenge on Livejournal - prompt #249: tenuous

Derek knows that his control has been, well, questionable at best lately. Even since he gained the ability to shift fully, he’s been struggling with keeping his instincts suppressed. It wasn’t hard after he just left Beacon Hills, but it’s been getting worse the longer he was on his own.

It’s not something that he had a chance to talk about with his parents before the fire, most definitely not something he’d have asked Laura, even if he’d known that it was going to become an issue. He also doubts that it was a problem for either his mother or his sister, despite the ability to shift into a wolf fully. But it is for him, and he has no idea what in the world he’s supposed to be doing about it.

So when he sees the sign, he’s immediately interested. Sure, it’s odd that something like that would be on a random flyer in a random town, but he stopped questioning those things quite some time ago. He wonders if this is one of the towns where werewolves are just a regular part of it — he knows there’s a pack in the area and he did make a brief visit to the Alpha to let them know about his presence. He didn’t linger though, nor did he have any plans on becoming too close to the pack, since he knew he’d be moving on soon.

The flyer is simple, looking like it was typed on an old-fashioned typewriter, with little tearaway strips with an address on the bottom. He tugs one away and slips it into his pocket after he glances around, just in case it’s not something that’s acknowledged by townsfolk.

**_Everything you needed to know about KNOTTING!! Beginners, newbies welcome._ **

Because the ability to shift into a full wolf has brought an issue that he knows he cannot possibly discuss with anyone he knows. Because no one he knows does have the same ability, which likely means they don’t have the same problem.

The meeting time listed on the back of the small strip he tore away is for the next evening, and for the whole day before it, Derek considers and reconsiders whether he should go. He’s too close to Quantico to feel completely okay walking around, but it seemed like a good idea to hide in plain sight when he got wind of the FBI being on his trail. Or that they thought they were — Derek very deliberately chose a place where they wouldn’t think to look, right under their noses.

He does go, in the end, but he decides to scope out the place at first, to get a sense of what kind of people are going to be there, and whether the meeting is in any way legitimate and safe. When he finds the address, it’s a bed and breakfast, with big bay windows in the front that allow him to look inside from across the road. What he sees startles him a little — there are baskets with yarn and needles set out on small tables around the bright room, each next to a comfortable chair. It’s then that his gaze slides to the poster in the corner of the side panel of the window, and he almost slaps his face as embarrassment washes over him.

**_Everything you ever needed to know about KN_** _~~O~~ _ **_ITTING!!_ **

“Derek, hey! Wow, you’re the last person I expected to show up here.”

The voice is familiar, friendly, despite the shocked tone behind the words. Derek wants to slap his face again for a different reason, because of course it’s Stiles. Of all the people in the world to witness his embarrassment, it had to be _Stiles_. He’s standing across the road, and the smile on his face is blindingly bright. Derek wants to say that he’s just passing by, that he had no intention of joining in, and the very last thing he wants to explain is his mistake about the poster. Which, now that he thinks about it, had a scribble on it that was probably the same correction as the one in the window behind Stiles.

He realizes that he can’t make up an excuse though, because the ripped away strip with the address is in his hand, and Stiles has clearly seen it. So instead, he crosses the road and stops a few steps away from Stiles.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for someone interested in crafts,” Stiles says the moment Derek is on his side of the road. “Then again, I’m guessing you wouldn’t have expected _me_ to run something like this either.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, knowing that he doesn’t have to say anything.

“It was part of my training in Quantico, a method to keep myself calm and focused,” Stiles explains without waiting to be prompted. “And since I have a knack for it apparently, I figured I could use my time off wisely and share the knowledge.”

Derek nods wordlessly, unsure what he could possibly say.

“So, you want to join us?” Stiles asks.

“Us?” Derek finally manages to open his mouth and speak.

“There are a few ladies who usually show up, and well, me.” Stiles grins. “I’m sure they’d appreciate someone new to break up the monotony.”

Derek hesitates. There’s no way he can tell Stiles that it’s been a mistake, that he didn’t look at the poster properly, or that he expected it to be a meeting about something else. So he shrugs and then nods, a little taken aback when Stiles smiles brightly again, like Derek’s presence is something amazing.

The ladies that Stiles mentioned show up just as Derek settles in one of the comfortable chairs that is backed against a bookshelf, and Stiles takes his place at the window. The basket there is filled with projects that have already been started before, and he spots a few others that seem to have been claimed previously. When the rest of the group comes in, Derek feels suddenly out of place — he’s by far the youngest with the exception of Stiles. The _ladies_ remind him of his grandmother, as they’re all older and sweet, immediately clasping hands as they let out various sounds of surprise and joy when they spot him. Stiles runs through quick introductions, tells them that Derek’s an old friend he hasn’t seen in a long time, and the ladies nod as they settle into their chairs.

An hour later, Derek has figured out how to not get his hands tangled in yarn and how to not make an unholy mess of it on the all too fragile needles. Stiles, to his credit, doesn’t laugh more than maybe twice through the hour, and he’s not the only one helping Derek out. When the ladies realize that Derek’s a complete newbie to knitting, they take turns helping him out, patiently explaining the steps of casting on and the basics of everything else.

“So, I’m sorry I pushed you,” Stiles says when the ladies leave and they’re left alone.

“You didn’t,” Derek tells him, and he walks around the room to help Stiles tidy up. “I… this was nice,” he admits. “It’s been a while since I relaxed this much.”

“I believe that,” Stiles says. “The last time I saw your face was on the list of targets at Quantico.”

Derek stops in his tracks and whips his head around. “What?”

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Stiles immediately replies, sounding panicked. “I should’ve mentioned that before. I just… man, it was a bit of a shock to see you on the list, and to see a video on the screen of you running through the woods. Shirtless. What is it with you and losing clothes anyway?”

“Still have mine now,” Derek points out, unable to stop the smirk that’s tugging on his lips. It fades a beat later though. “Why were you shown active missions? Aren’t you still in training only?”

“I am,” Stiles says, nodding. “Part of it is getting a look at active cases, to prepare us for what’s coming. Not that we get to participate,” he adds with a disappointed tone.

“Yeah, such a shame that they don’t send you on dangerous missions before you’re fully trained, really,” Derek says, voice perfectly flat.

“Anyway. I’m not telling them I’ve seen you, so don’t worry. I didn’t even mention that I know you, and what they’re trying to pin on you is insane,” Stiles says.

“What is it?” Derek asks.

He can guess, but he’s curious about how much the FBI does know.

“Mass murder, apparently,” Stiles says, rolling his eyes. “I mean, years ago, I would have believed murder…”

“You did,” Derek tells him, a little amused by the memory.

Stiles levels him with a glare. “I didn’t know you then, though. And I’m not busting you for something I know you didn’t do.”

Derek shrugs. It wasn’t _his fault_ , but he’s the only one who walked away from that particular hunter meeting alive, so he gets how it may have looked to the agents who arrived at the scene just as he was getting out. At least there weren’t any questionable injuries, only gunshot wounds from and on the hunters themselves. Apparently when a group of hunters gathers, emotions run wild and they’re all a little too trigger-happy. This time, it resulted in them attacking each other, and Derek only walked in to try and question the one who wasn’t already dead. He even offered to call for an Alpha to turn the hunter so he’d survive, but he knew before he said it that the answer would be no.

Stiles looks at him like he’s trying to read his mind for a few beats, then shakes his head and sighs.

“So, are you in the area long?”

“I’ve been here a few weeks,” Derek says. “Wasn’t planning on staying, but there was research to do, and it’s safe.”

“You’re like, around the corner from the FBI headquarters,” Stiles says, incredulous.

“Exactly.” Derek grins. “Hiding in plain sight.”

“Right. So…” Stiles starts, but he hesitates, looking like he wants to ask something, but is afraid of the answer.

“Do you do this every week?” Derek asks, breaking the silence, and he glances down at the collection of baskets with knitting supplies.

“Yeah. Most of them. Unless there’s training at the same time, but then I usually just reschedule. The ladies are flexible with their time, what with being retired.”

“Right. Mind if I come along next week?” Derek asks.

He wants to pretend that it’s because he enjoys knitting, or the company of the ladies who make him feel the way his grandmother used to. The truth is that he missed Stiles. Of all the people back in Beacon Hills, Stiles is the one who’s been on Derek’s mind most often since he left.

“Yeah,” Stiles says. “Yeah, that would be great. I mean, I’m sure Ethel will bring cookies next week too, you wouldn’t want to miss those.”

He’s nervous, Derek can see that, and somehow that’s oddly reassuring. Because Derek isn’t as relaxed about being around Stiles as he’s pretending to be.

“Okay. I’ll see you next week then,” Stiles says. “Same time, same place. And you’ve got your own basket now,” he adds with a smile.

Derek nods, then excuses himself, and leaves. It’s only when he’s back in the room he’s renting from the local pack that he’s reminded of his tenuous control over parts of his shift. He groans in frustration, because the reminder comes at the same time as his mind summons an image of Stiles from earlier that day. Only, the image comes when Derek is in the shower, and the Stiles in his mind is in there with him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WiP Week entry, for the Newest WiP day.

It takes three more weekends before Stiles gets curious again. Or, as Derek suspects, before he dares asking out loud what he’s been wondering for the past month.

“So, I still don’t really understand something,” Stiles says as they’re tidying up after the knitting session is over.

To Derek’s  _and Stiles’s_  surprise, it’s been fun to be there, to learn the craft and to spend time with not only Stiles but also the ladies who never missed a meeting. They have taken to bringing baked goods—apparently both he and Stiles look like they’re not all that good at taking care of themselves, according to all of the ladies—and have patiently helped out Derek whenever he struggled if Stiles couldn’t help. He’s almost halfway through the scarf that he started§ and while there are several spots where he obviously dropped a stitch or made a mistake, he’s pretty proud of himself.

So when Stiles’s curiosity shows, Derek can’t help but worry. He doesn’t want anything to throw off the precarious peace that the knitting  _and_  the company gives him. Since Stiles didn’t ask a question yet, Derek just raises an eyebrow to prompt him to continue, but he’s internally starting to panic a little.

“This,” Stiles says with a wave at the baskets, “doesn’t seem like it’s really your thing. How come you showed up that first time?”

And there it is, the perfect prompt for the excuses that Derek’s been thinking up over the weeks. But Stiles’s face is so genuinely curious that he can’t help but think of the mistake he made, which makes his whole face heat up.

“Okay, what?” Stiles immediately asks, because of course he wouldn’t miss the blush in Derek’s face. “Is this like, some sort of weird werewolf thing? Is knitting a kink or something?”

“What? No! How would you even…  _no_ ,” Derek says a little too quickly.

“Then why do you look like I just rummaged through your online browsing history or discovered your secret journal?” Stiles asks, and he’s very clearly amused by the way Derek is flustered.

The plan was to tell Stiles that crafts were something that he used to do as a kid with his grandparents and that the memories were the reason why he showed up. Or to say that it was an attempt to distract himself from the memories that weren’t so pleasant. Or—and he wouldn’t have really been lying about that one—that it was something that a therapist recommended once upon a time. Sure, any of those would have invited questions, but Derek had contingency plans and backup stories at the ready in case Stiles decided to dig deeper.

Instead, his cheeks heat up more and he can’t stop himself from turning his gaze to the floor. He knows he looks guilty as sin and that it’s the perfect prompt for Stiles to not only keep prodding but also to come up with all different possible answers until Derek gives him one.

“Dude, seriously, it can’t be  _that bad_ ,” Stiles says, and Derek looks up to see his amused face. “I mean, you did say no to the fetish thing, so….”

Stiles’s voice fades out and he lets the words hang in the air as an opening for Derek to tell him the truth.

Only, Derek hasn’t talked to anyone about his predicament which he still has no answers for, no matter how much he researched. And Stiles’s mention of browsing history hit a little too close to home, because if he  _did_  somehow manage to see Derek’s… well, Derek doesn’t want to even think about it. But now he can’t use any of the excuses he came up with, because none of them warrant the level of blushing the heat of which he still feels in his face. And Stiles isn’t stupid.

As he tries to scramble for an explanation, Stiles’s face shifts from amused and curious to pensive and confused. A moment later, Derek sees a flash of panic and then Stiles’s eyes are wide open and his cheeks turn a little darker.

“Derek? Where did you see the poster for the meeting?”

“Out by the gas station, the one about two miles out,” he says, confused by Stiles’s question.

“Oh shit,” Stiles blurts, and his cheeks get redder. “Oh. Right. Okay.”

“Stiles?”

Derek can hear Stiles’s heart hammering in his chest, and he smells a hint of embarrassment coming off of Stiles.

“Right, so,” Stiles starts. “When I typed these and had a friend make copies, I didn’t realize that there was a typo on them. And I replaced all the ones that I put up, but Dan put the one up that you saw and I didn’t know until after the meeting.”

“Right,” Derek’s voice comes out flat, as the realization starts hitting that Stiles is coming closer to getting the answer that Derek doesn’t really want to give him.

“So, you saw the poster that wasn’t properly corrected to  _knitting_ ,” Stiles barges on, and Derek tries to brace himself for the moment when it all clicks. “You saw the one with the mistake. And you still showed up. Because… you’re into… some sort of hobby that involves knots?”

His voice is betraying his confusion like his mind is trying to come up with an explanation  _other_  than the obvious one.

“Dude, help me out here,” Stiles says when Derek doesn’t react. “I mean, there is more than one thing that this could be about and both of them are… well, you know I don’t do judgment. I just… is it wolf related or kink related?”

“Wolf,” Derek mumbles, and his cheeks keep feeling like they’re on fire.

Only now he also has thoughts of the other option that “knotting” could be about and well, his mind is running away with them and wondering whether they’re something that is on Stiles’s mind. Or maybe in his list of interests.

“Oh. Ooooooh,” Stiles drawls out, and Derek can hear  _and smell_  the combination of surprise, curiosity, and a hint of interest. “Is it the full shift thing?”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “I mean, it’s not like it’s… I didn’t know it was a possibility until that night in Mexico.”

“And has it…” Stiles starts, then pauses, then takes a deep breath. His fingers start plucking on a strand of yarn from the basket on the table in front of him like he needs to distract himself. “I mean, Braeden knows you’re a werewolf, so….”

Derek shakes his head, though he’s not sure what exactly it’s a reaction to. When Stiles looks at him with a confused expression, Derek takes a breath and tries to find the words to explain.

“I mean, yeah, obviously she knows I am,” he says. “But we haven’t… I mean, after Mexico, we were only together for a few months and most of those were spent trying to track down Malia’s mother and avoiding getting caught. So we haven’t really…. She doesn’t know  _that_.”

“Oh,” Stiles says.

It’s almost like he’s relieved and Derek doesn’t understand why he would be, but he’s not about to ask. The fact that he can scent emotions is still odd for anyone in the pack, whether human or wolf. He gets it, it’s invasive at best, and uncomfortable to be aware that someone else knows things that are so private.

Normally, Derek only pays attention to the chemosignals when it’s absolutely necessary—in a fight, when trying to track someone—and not during regular conversation. But now, now he’s intrigued.

“So, you thought that there would be a meeting about this predicament that you’re in,” Stiles starts, and his face clearly shows how likely he thinks that would be. “In plain sight, like it’s no big deal.”

“There’s a pack in town and they get visitors a lot, because of where we are,” Derek explains. “And I wasn’t going to just march in and start asking questions. That’s why I was….”

He nods towards the window that’s looking out at the street where Stiles found him that first time.

“Ah yeah, lurking,” Stiles says, smirking. “It’s kind of reassuring to see that some habits haven’t left you.”

Derek frowns at him but doesn’t say anything.

“Right, so, obviously that plan didn’t work out since we’re definitely not that kind of meeting,” Stiles starts rambling again. “And I’m guessing that you haven’t found another source of information yet.”

“No,” Derek says, shaking his head. “I’m not that close to the pack here and I don’t want to make things awkward. They don’t even know I can shift fully. No one but those who were in Mexico knows that. And Cora.”

Stiles nods. Derek knows that he doesn’t need to point out that he couldn’t ask anyone in Scott’s pack about what’s happening to his body. The only ones who might know would be either Deaton—who hasn’t earned Derek’s trust—and Peter, who’s about the last person on Earth whom Derek would consider going to.

“Right. So, we should probably move this conversation somewhere a little more private,” Stiles says, glancing towards the back of the house. “If there’s a pack in town, I’m sure there  _are_  people who know, but I’m not really keen on finding out and losing this prime location due to Abby’s fear that I’m bringing in a LARPing group here next time.”

Derek nods in agreement—he’s seen the owner of the bed and breakfast, and he knows that she’s very much human—and follows Stiles outside, hands full with knitting baskets. Stiles loads them up into Roscoe. Then he turns and leans against it.

“Did you drive here today? Or can we just jump into my baby—“ he pats the baby blue metal “—and head over to my place?”

“Where  _is_  your place?” Derek asks.

It dawns on him that since Stiles is an intern-slash-trainee for the FBI, it might not be the best place to head to. Not when Derek still is likely on their wanted list.

“Here in town, actually,” Stiles says, then chuckles as Derek breathes out in relief. “During the week, I’m usually in Quantico in the dorms, but Olive—“ he refers to one of the ladies from the knitting meeting “—has graciously allowed me to stay in her guest room for the weekends. I think it’s so she can feed me some more,” he finishes with a smile.

“I’m not sure if cookies count as food,” Derek says, remembering the usual offerings from the meetings.

“Oh no, she makes a mean lasagna and there have been these delicious meatballs she made last week,” Stiles says and he looks like he’s getting lost in the memory of said meals. Then he shakes his head a bit and looks back at Derek. “Right, let’s grab the rest of the stuff and head to mine. I’m sure once she gets wind of you being over, there will be an extra portion set aside for you.”

Derek shrugs, follows Stiles back inside the house and grabs a few of the baskets, ignoring Stiles’s muttered “show-off”. When the room is cleared, the supplies all loaded into Roscoe, and the chairs back to their pre-meeting positions, they head out. Stiles glances around the street for cars, then looks at Derek with narrowed eyes.

“Seriously, did you  _run_  here?”

“Only from the store,” Derek says, nodding towards the end of the street. “Didn’t want to block the driveway like last week.”

“Served you right for parking right in front of Alice’s truck,” Stiles says, grinning. “That woman drives like a maniac.”

Derek lifts an eyebrow, smiling.

“Hey,” Stiles immediately protests. “Roscoe doesn’t manage those speeds and I wouldn’t try to cut off everything that’s on the road. She did that with an ambulance a few weeks ago, claiming that she was in more of a rush.”

Derek continues looking at Stiles without a word.

“It had the lights flashing!”

“Because your Dad never had them going on the cruiser,” Derek says, chuckling at Stiles’s outraged expression.

“ _I_  did  _not_!”

Derek raises his hands, palms out, in surrender. Then he looks towards the Jeep.

“Okay, want me to follow you, or will you drop me back to my car later?”

Stiles shakes his head. Then he starts towards Roscoe and looks over his shoulder back at Derek.

“I’ll bring you back. It’s only a block away from the store anyway,” he says, and Derek nods as he follows him to the Jeep.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://froggydarren.tumblr.com/) || [my sterek fic tumblr](http://triggeringthehealing.tumblr.com/)


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